Monday, September 10, 2012

Words From a Stranger


I heard the words at the end of mile twelve as I struggled to keep on running.

"I'm proud of you, you're almost there."

I had never seen the woman before in my life, but she spoke those words directly to me as if we had been friends forever. The last four miles had been a slow plodding mess and I was giving serious thought to pulling over to the curb and quitting right then and there, but when I heard those words, I kicked up the pace.

It was just after mile eight of my first half-marathon that I decided I would rather be in hell than run five more miles, which was incredibly unfortunate for me, because I really wanted a medal. Which they were giving out at the finish line. Exactly five miles away.

Bands were stationed every half a mile, playing music. Spectators covered every available inch of sidewalk. For eight miles I relished the encouragement. I smiled, waved, and high-fived my way along that glorious distance. After mile eight I hated every last person lining the streets and the chairs they were relaxing in as they shouted at me to "go girl" and "keep running."

"YOU keep running," sneered the petulant toddler who had suddenly taken up residence inside my head.

With no choice but to keep moving, I slogged my way down streets softening in the blazing heat that was so unseasonable for Pittsburgh in May.

Four miles to go.

My running shorts, so perfectly arranged during the first half of the race, had started to bunch up between my legs, causing an excruciating heat rash that no amount of Vaseline from the medical tent would fix. My beloved running hat felt like a sponge that had reached its capacity. The faithful running shoes that had carried me though endless training miles were giving me a blister on my toe. The cups at the water stations were filled with boiling hot liquid from hours in the sun.

My internal dialogue was an endless string of jerky thoughts.

I really hate this song. I definitely have heat stroke. Why would this band play such a stupid song? I hate running. I think I have a cramp. And shin splints. And probably a stress fracture. I. Hate. Running.

Three miles to go.

I very nearly laid right down on the street and forgot about the rest of the race, but I figured that if I did I would probably just end up trampled by the rest of the runners and with a third degree burn from the heat radiating up from the pavement. Not exactly an improvement to my current situation.

Two miles to go. Might as well be two hundred.

Other runners were passing me by the dozens, and I was moving so slowly it was a wonder I was making any forward progress at all. I was mentally cursing myself, and ruing the day I pressed "submit" on the registration form for this god-forsaken race.

Never again. No way in hell.

I saw the woman as I made the turn onto the bridge that signaled the start of the final mile. She was sitting in a lounge chair right on the corner. Her white hair was ablaze in the sunlight; rivulets of sweat trickled down the maze of wrinkles lining her face. Her gnarled hands gripped the arms of her chair, and her bottomless blue eyes looked straight into mine.

"I'm proud of you, you're almost there."

A wave of affection swept through me for this elderly stranger who sat all morning in the sun, cheering so fervently for runners she didn't even know, and I stood up a little straighter. I could do this. I could finish.

Gritting my teeth, I started to fly. Over the bridge. Up the final hill to the top, where I could see the finish in the distance. The crowds were roaring, and my brain played the woman's words over and over, pushing me down the final stretch.

Finished.

I don't know who she was, and I don't know her story, which seems strange considering how big a role she played in mine. I hope I see her next year at the start of the final mile, but if I don't, I'll certainly hear her words in my head as I make the final turn towards home.

I'm proud of you, you're almost there.
 
Joining some amazing writers who blog and bloggers who write over at Yeah Write.

38 comments:

  1. Good job! On the running AND the writing. Neither one is easy.

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  2. Great post - That woman was there when you needed her.

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    1. She certainly was. I don't think I could have finished it without her.

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  3. what an awesome story. and well told. i love that old woman.

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    1. I love her too! I so wish that I knew her name. I am hoping that I see her again next year when I run the race again. I will definitely stop for a minute to hug her. She was incredible, and I wonder how many other people she helped that day. I can't possibly be the only one who was a miserable disaster as we made the turn onto the bridge.

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  4. Oh, yay! Yay for you for completing the race and yay for her for being so awesome just when you needed her. And now I feel like a schmuck because I'm repeating week 4 of the Couch-to-5K for the third week in a row because I've been lazy and haven't finished it. Sigh... Guess I know what I'm doing after work...

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    1. She was so awesome. Also, don't feel bad about repeating week 4! It has been a dream of mine to run long distance since my freshman year of college, but I could never seem to get there. It took me almost nine years to build up to it, and many, many months of running one mile at a time. I think I quit about twenty-five times before I was finally able to get it to stick. Keep on running!

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  5. What a nice lady! I would have made it about a half mile before giving up. :P

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    1. She was a delightful lady. Its amazing what a few words can do.

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  6. It's so amazing how the right kind words at the right time make so much of a difference. On the one hand, nothing's changed. On the other *everything* has changed. The human psyche is complicated, yo.

    I enjoyed this post. Especially your description of the sweat trickling down the old woman's "maze of wrinkles." And the fact that you finished a half marathon. Occasionally I am struck by madness and sign up for a 5k and then spend the entire race actively trying not to keel over and die.

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    1. She was at the right place at the most incredibly right time. I seriously owe her the medal I got when I finished the race. When I registered for this race I was struck by madness too, and wondered about eight thousand times during my training whether I had just completely lost my mind.

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  7. Congratulations Samantha! And you know what? I'm proud of you too, keep going!

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  8. I love this. Those words are amazing and if I ever run again I am going to say thing to everyone all the time. It reminds me of mile 23 in my first marathon. My iPod was playing an inspiring song and I started to sob because I knew I was going to finish and finish strong. It was really emotional. But some nice gentlement thought I was crying because it's so god-awful to run that far. one said, "it's ok, you're going to make it." I kept crying because I knew it was true and that's why I was crying.

    Love it!

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    1. Ever since that race, whenever I go for a run and see another runner that looks like I felt at mile 12, I want to say those words to them. We runners are a crazy breed, but god, I love us. And there really is no better feeling then that moment when you realize that, no matter how you felt the minute before, you are going to make it to the finish. It's enough to get me to keep signing up for these crazy races.

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  9. This is just beautiful. Congrats on finishing the race. And thank you for sharing the story of your cheerleader. It is such a great reminder that we never can know the impact that we might have on someone and how important it is to just reach out. To say the awkward but kind words. To give the pat on the back. To say "good job" and "I'm proud of you" - to strangers, friends, acquaintances, and family alike. Thank you for sharing. Good job.

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    1. Thanks so much Christie. We really never know, do we? I hope I see the women again next year so I can tell her just what her words did for me.

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  10. I'm proud of you, too -- a half-marathon is a huge accomplishment! I've been picked up many times by the kind words of a stranger; loved this story.

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    1. Thanks Louise! Sometimes the words of a stranger are the most powerful of all.

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  11. Great post! Running and writing are my greatest joys and greatest challenges. You hit that on the head here.

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    1. Thanks! Since I have started running, my writing has improved so much. I have been thinking lately that I can't do one without the other.

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  12. Amazing...the power of positive words! You are my hero for running that race! I am struggling to run a mile, at this point.

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    1. It is so amazing, she really is my hero. Thanks for reading!

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  13. You just never know when your words will make a difference. It would be interesting to know if one day, when your running days are behind you, you might be the lady with the white hair in the lawn chair cheering on strangers. Also, they make this stuff at REI that looks like a deodorant stick that you can apply to the insides of your legs to prevent chafing and it works really well.

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    1. Thanks for the suggestion. I've broken bones that were less painful than that heat rash. I hope Im that lady with the white (or impeccably dyed brown) hair!

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  14. Great read and it has made me take a firm stand against running at all. It has made me want to go and stand at the end of mile 12 in the next foot race I come across. Thanks for the hope that not everyone sucks.

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  15. I have never run that far so I can only imagine how hard it is when you hit a wall! What a great woman - it would be so fun to know her story. Did she used to run? Did she have a son or daughter or husband that ran? I think people do that because they know it makes a difference. Congratulations!!

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    1. I'm dying to know her story! The whole city of Pittsburgh comes out in droves to cheer for the runners in this race, so it's possible that she was only a spectator, which, I think, makes her even more awesome.

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  16. That is such a wonderful achievement! I love, love the idea of strangers who motivate people in this kind of way. You told a great story here. Well done.

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  17. Oh what a great story!
    The sentiment behind it and the way you told your tale were both so so so great.

    It's amazing the difference a kind stranger can make in our lives, and this was a beautiful reminder.

    Congrats on finishing what sounds like an absolutely grueling race!

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    1. That race was the worst/best couple hours, if that makes any sense. Runners are a strange breed I think because, despite how awful those last miles were, when registration opens in a few days for the 2013 race, I'm all over it.

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  18. Oh man, you have more stamina than I. They would need to make it an EXPENSIVE medal to get me to willingly run that far. But your angel-lady? Totally awesome.

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    1. She was totally awesome. I hope I see her again next year.

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  19. When we're the strangers, we never know when our words will stick with somebody. And when we're the somebody, we never know how valuable a stranger's words might be. Proud of you for running a half-marathon! I won't even run across the living room to pick up the remote. ;)

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  20. Love this story! I've done several races also and I know EXACTLY HOW YOU FEEL. You described it so perfectly. I also know that lady! Thank God for spectators like her.

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  21. This was excellent! I envy runners. I can't jog to the end of my cove without passing out and/or cursing. What a blessing for that stranger and her genuine words.

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